Chapter 263 – Flame
As a branch of humanity, wizards are no different from ordinary humans in their hearts and minds.
In the magical world, wizards—whose thoughts are often as chaotic as those of ordinary people—are the most complex intelligent beings, even more so than magical creatures such as centaurs or goblins.
And with that complexity comes susceptibility — the ability to be influenced, tempted, or swayed.
So, when faced with the temptation of the locket, it was Kreacher, the one with a pure and unwavering heart, who remained unshaken. He stood firm in his beliefs, even as Ron and Draco wavered under its influence.
The thin, wrinkled elf raised his bony finger like a wand, pointing at the two pure-blood wizards he once dared not defy — the two who had often treated him as little more than an annoyance.
The locket, infused with a fragment of Voldemort's soul, exuded a corrupting power that filled the entire cabin with suffocating malice.
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Ron's thoughts twisted.
I'm not hurting Harry. I'm stopping him. He's not thinking straight — maybe I'm helping him.
Yet, deep down, his loyalty to Harry held him still.
So Ron merely raised his wand, hesitating, pretending he might act.
Draco's struggle mirrored Ron's. He wanted to believe this was for Harry's good — after all, Regulus Black, a Death Eater, had once sanctioned this mission.
But like Ron, Draco too chose to believe Harry.
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Wizard magic, like their thoughts, is chaotic and boundless — capable of both corruption and salvation.
They may be easily influenced, but when driven by conviction and emotion, they can unleash miracles.
Harry walked forward slowly, a faint red glow pulsing beneath his skin as magic surged through his veins. The fiery energy around him burned away the suffocating darkness.
The wand in his pocket trembled — then flew into his hand as if alive.
A cool sensation spread across his forehead, sharpening his mind and pushing his instincts to their limit.
That locket — that golden, cursed thing — had to be destroyed.
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A flame burst from the tip of his wand — colorless, yet radiant with every hue.
It was pure magic.
It was willpower.
It was Harry Potter.
All his courage, kindness, and determination fused into that formless fire — the perfect antithesis to Voldemort's corruption.
Better than basilisk venom.
Better than Fiendfyre.
Better than anything born of hate.
The flame of faith itself.
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"No! Don't—!"
"You— you'll regret this!"
The locket screamed in a voice that no longer sounded human. The hiss grew into a shriek as the flames drew closer.
There was a blinding flash.
Ron and Draco's wands fell from their hands. Harry shielded his eyes.
When the light faded, the golden locket lay still — dull, lifeless.
The emeralds adorning it now looked like cheap green glass.
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Kreacher turned to look at Ron and Draco, his wide eyes trembling with disbelief and awe.
"Master Regulus' order… Master Regulus' order has been completed!" he cried, voice shaking. "Kreacher has finally fulfilled Master Regulus' command!"
He gasped for air, tears and snot streaming freely down his wrinkled face. Then, with shocking speed, he darted toward the fireplace, grabbed a poker, and reappeared beside the ruined locket.
Clang!
A single strike.
The locket shattered.
For a long moment, silence.
Then the poker slipped from Kreacher's hands as he collapsed onto the cold floor. Tears poured from his hollow eyes, his face contorted between laughter and sobbing.
He had done it. After decades of torment — he was finally free.
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"Is he… still alive?" Ron asked quietly. "I mean Kreacher."
"Could he be cursed? For destroying the locket?"
"No," Harry said softly. "He's just… happy."
Ron's ears flushed red. He looked ashamed, thinking of how he'd nearly turned his wand on Harry.
Draco's expression mirrored his own — guilt, and relief.
"My father always said — never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its mind," Harry murmured. "That locket was no good thing."
Ron hesitated. "Harry, I—"
"Me too," Draco interrupted, his voice hoarse. "That thing showed us… things. It looked right into our hearts. Ron and I both had our wands drawn at you."
The two boys lowered their heads, waiting for Harry's judgment.
But Harry just smiled.
"I've got a secret," he said quietly. "Whenever I reach that state — when I can feel everything — I can sense every intention around me. And I didn't feel danger behind me."
He looked at them warmly.
"Because my instinct tells me my friends would never betray me. Even if you raised your wands, it was only because you cared. Not because you were deceived."
He picked up their fallen wands and handed them back.
Ron and Draco smiled, relief and gratitude softening their faces.
---
A few minutes later, the three finally began to notice their surroundings again.
"Is this Kreacher's lair?" Ron asked.
"Maybe we came to the wrong place," Draco muttered.
The room had changed. The once filthy stone floor now gleamed, spotless. Kreacher's ragged bed looked freshly washed, and even the air felt lighter.
Everything tainted by darkness had been quietly cleansed by the light of Harry's flame.
Even Kreacher, sitting quietly with his face buried in his knees, seemed… at pea
ce.
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(End of Chapter 263)
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